Gonna Take My Chance Tonight
by Werepuppy Black
Summary: Weirdsister College. "Though it was true that Nick Hobbes preferred to have people think he was evil, it was also true that he preferred to have her think he was anything but."


_**A/N:** Dedicated to shalexa3000 on youtube, who messaged me and requested the fic so kindly that I couldn't help but try to write it for her. I hope it's what you're looking for, and will point out that this is the first fic I've ever written to be deliberately under the 'romance' genre; as I tend to prefer general ones, with just hinting. But, I hope I did a good job on this, and that it's believable. I would suggest that it takes place not that long after the events in "Going to Have a Ball." On with the fic, and I really hope you like it shalexa3000

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_**Gonna Take My Chance Tonight**

He preferred people to think he was evil, it made for a lot less annoyance, and a lot less having to put up with people, pretending to be nice. Evil was an easy act to keep, good was a hard mask to wear. And anyway, it was what people expected when they saw him, all he was really doing was living up to - or should that be down to - their expectations. If he had down any different they would argue he was simply putting on a mask, not realising that the majority of his 'natural' way of living was in itself the biggest pretend that he had ever put on. Bigger than the small boy who was no longer scared. He often gave a soft and slightly bitter laugh about how easy it was to fool people. Well, that was to say, most people.

He often wondered if people were created to be the complete opposite of someone else living on the planet with them, as that was the way it seemed with her. At least, some of the time. He supposed it was a way of keeping that great universal balance, that unknown that could never really be defined, but that all witches and wizards were taught about as children, and warned never to try to upset. It was safe to say that he never had been one for listening to warnings. Which possibly could be added to his explanations for why he preferred people thinking he was evil, when he thought on it. He would do everything people would tell him not to. He would lust after power; push his magic to its up most limit, pushing it always to go that tiny bit further. And, of course, he would meddle with people's dreams …

**XXX **

_She was in another time period altogether, though she somehow knew it was no more than 150 years back, and she was in a place that was filled with magic. She could feel it tingling all over her skin, creating a warmth that only could be felt by a magic user. Her clothing was appropriate for the time period; if bordering on the subtly sensual, a beautiful deep blue dress, the bodice of which sparkled slightly when caught in the light, as if decorated by thousands of hundreds of tiny little diamonds, the long skirt following this design in random bursts, making the overall appearance seem somewhat like a twinkling night sky. Her hair sparkled as well, it was as though someone had turned her into a star in human form. _

_She looked around the room she was in; she was in the middle of a ball, with figures all spinning round in a whirl of such glamour and finery, and she stood as an onlooker, not yet part of the crowd, but wanting to be. He comes to her, dressed not his customary black, but in softer colours, creams and browns, bringing out his features in a way that seemed more comforting that when he was head to toe in the severe looking black. He held out his hand to her in a courtly way, smiling softly. She placed her own hand in his, no words needing to be spoken, as they stepped out, joining the whirling couples. _

_She often wondered why it was that they always seemed to come together in ways like this, finding each other even in the fullest of crowds, in the oddest of situations. It wasn't through want of trying another way, it seemed that no matter what they did, how much they grew apart, somehow they would always end up beside each other, in amongst so many others. It was getting to a point where she knew that she could trust him more than she could trust her dearest of her friends to be at her side when she needed help the most. Even if he was only at her side to throw a sarcastic and rude remark her way, he'd still be there. _

_Together they spun, the music playing into a glorious rise, enchanting as the situation seemed, something which made a wry smile come to her face, realising the situation she was in. No wonder it had seemed so familiar to her, the only difference this time was that he had said nothing, no manipulative monologue that he had preached to her the last time. This time all there had been was dancing and music, and it had been decidedly nice. As the time wore on, and the dancing grew to an end, she found herself looking directly up into his face. His features seemed softer than she had ever seen them, as if some great weight had been removed from him. He smiled at her, and she found herself figuratively melting. She leaned in towards him, her heart thumping in a way she thought impossible, as his head neared hers … their lips touched …_

And in that instant, Mildred Hubble sat straight up in her bed, breathing heavily.

**XXX**

Mildred sat on her bed, unable to find her sleep again after the dream. She was almost completely positive that the dream hadn't been manufactured, simply because it felt so much more _right_ than the other one had. She had been thinking of Nick a lot more since the New Year's ball, though she was never quite sure if it was simply because he had been so nice to her that night, or for … other reasons. It was hard to explain really, and she doubted that she wanted to explain, not properly at any rate, but she found herself growing ever more fond of Nick Hobbes, perhaps even to the levels of love. In fact, she was more than positive that she did love him, but it had only been recently that she had found the courage to admit, having always doubted her feelings since trusting them never seemed to work out well for her in the past. But she trusted them now.

Then again, how could she be sure that the dream was one of her own mind's creation? She had been sure that the last one had been dreamt up by herself, only to find out differently. And, despite what she had told Cas, it had hurt. A lot. As real as the new dream had seemed to her, it was entirely possible that it had simply been manufactured and given to her, like the last one, and that thought made Mildred feel a mixture of furious anger, and hurt. The thought wouldn't leave her mind, however, no matter how much she tried.

She stared at the door, her mind debating on whether or not to go and make sure that it hadn't been a planted dream. She didn't think she could bear the disappointment if it was. She glanced towards the digital clock sitting at her bedside, noting that it was very early in the morning, and chances were that Nick was fast asleep. But even still, she couldn't sleep until she knew for sure. Slipping out from under the warm covers as quietly as she could as not to wake Ethel, she crossed the room, picking up her dressing gown on the way, grateful that her bed clothes were more covering than those of her room-mate, closing the door quietly behind her as she made her way quickly down to Nick's room.

She just hoped that the Beadle was asleep, as she didn't think she would actually be able to explain her actions this time.

**XXX**

Thankfully, her path down to Nick's room was undisturbed, something which she would be forever grateful for. She stood at the door to his room, debating silently whether or not to knock on the door. It seemed stupid that she should falter now, when she had made the effort to come down, but it just happened to be the case. Shaking her head slightly, she silently chided herself. "You've come all this way Millie, might as well see it through," she told herself, raising her hand and knocking on the door.

From inside the room, Mildred could hear a soft muttering, causing her to frown, and then knock again. The muttering started up again, this time slightly more annoyed sounding. She stood, not knowing whether or not to knock again, or to turn back in the direction of her dorm room. She half turned, only to have the door open, and Nick's head peer blearily out at her. "…Millie?" he asked, looking as though he had just woken up, which he had. At that moment, it occurred to Mildred that she had never seen Nick in any other mood than alert, and that this tired state made him seem quite different to the danger presence that stalked, for there was no other word for it, the halls of Weirdsister College. "Is something the matter? Why are you here at … " there was a pause as he looked at the clock, "I can't even focus … some god-awful time?"

"I … that is … " she faltered, not quite knowing how to word what it was she wanted to say to him. She supposed the distraction of seeing Nick in … well more without a top. Though the more logical part of her brain reasoned that it was a very warm night, perhaps he had simply been too hot to sleep with a top on. The logical side of her brain was backed up with evidence, as Mildred could see a discarded pyjama top lying on the floor where it had obviously been thrown. However, the larger, more emotionally charged, part of her brain was making a noise which Mildred could only describe as squeeing. Nick looked at her, waiting for a more audible explanation, before sighing, opening his door a wider to allow her entry.

"You might as well come in," he told her, pushing his hair back out of his eyes. "I guess another coffee-fuelled night won't kill me…"

**XXX**

"So," Nick said, frowning, "let me see if I've got this right. You had a dream about me, and of course I planted it because I'm evil and do stuff like that," he said, a bitter laugh escaping his lips before he could stop himself. Mildred gave a small, embarrassed smile.

"You have done it before," she pointed out quietly, fidgeting with the belt to her dressing gown. Nick frowned, trying to remember, before a knowing look slid on to his face.

"Oh yes, the day no one allowed me to explain myself," he muttered softly. Off Mildred's confused look he waved his hand, dismissing the mutter. "Even if I did plant a dream that one time, it didn't mean I did it tonight." he told her. "As a matter of fact I was sleeping," he said, his tone dry. Mildred, for her credit, had the good graces to look embarrassed. "And anyway," he said, this time looking away from her, a sure sign that every word he was about to say was a truth he'd rather not tell, "I did learn my lesson last time. I lost to the … other," he finished.

"…_Oh_," Mildred said, working out what it was that Nick was insinuating. "Well, it didn't last long anyway," she admitted with a slightly cheeky smile. "It's hard to stay with someone who hates such a big part of your life," she explained softly. "It got to a point where it was either him or my magic, and as much as I liked him … I couldn't see myself without having magic in my life," she said. She looked up, frowning slightly as she thought. "I'd given up on relationships a bit to be honest," she told Nick, shrugging lightly. "More trouble than their worth. But then tonight … I had that dream about you … " she trailed off, not needing to explain any further. Nick frowned.

"So you've had this dream about me, and you don't know where it makes you stand on relationships and stuff like that?" he ventured, causing Mildred to nod. "I'm assuming this will relate to you not understanding your, possibly, new feelings about … me?" he added, his tone not changing from that of curiosity, though there was a hopeful gleam in his eyes. Again Mildred nodded, not quite understand what direction Nick was planning to take his speech in. "Well, I can see only one clear way to test these feelings," he said simply, looking at her as if it were obvious.

"Um, Nick, I don't quite …" Mildred was cut off as Nick leant over, and without a second's warning, kissed her.

Mildred had only kissed one other person before in her life, and they had broken up due to his being unable to accept that her magic was an important part of her, though this was mostly due to his dislike of it. It safe to safe that her chaste kisses with Ben were completely unlike kissing Nick Hobbes. Where Ben had been restrained and safe, and smelt of soap, Nick had thrown caution to the wind, smelt of smoke, and spice, and something indefinable, and was … well the only word she could think of was _intense. _When they broke apart for air, Nick leaned back.

"Well?" he asked, a devious and yet playful smirk appearing on his face. Mildred blinked for a few moments, her head lifting slowly to look at him. A small smirk appeared on her own face, matching Nick's. This time she initiated the kiss, though - as was typical for him - he took gain control of it quickly, making it fierce and powerful, and just a hint of danger.

Of course, it was by this point that a slightly panicking voice at the back of Mildred's mind, it often reminded her of her friend Maud, who was currently studying at Avalon Lake, to start pointing out that perhaps it would have been better if they hadn't both been sitting on the bed when they started kissing, especially since Nick was now leaning over her, causing her to lean back against his pillows. This panicking voice was dismissed by another more impulsive, and most definitely heavily influenced by Enid, voice, who was advising her to just 'go with what felt right.'

Eventually it was Nick who pulled back, resting his forehead against hers, and letting out a low chuckle. "Sweet little Mille Hubble," he teased lightly, bringing his hand up to rub against her cheek, his thumb running over her lips, kissing them lightly once more.

"Bad Nick Hobbes," she countered, grinning softly, as he let out another soft laugh. "Not so bad really, are you?" she asked, watching him carefully. He smirked deviously at her.

"Oh no Mildred," he said, his smirk growing, "I am completely bad," he told her. "A corrupting influence, some might even say," he added, his smirk taking on a tone that Mildred couldn't quite identify, but it amused her all the same. She leant back a little, raising her chin in challenge.

"Show me."

**XXX**

Though it was true that Nick Hobbes preferred to have people think he was evil, and that his preference was more often than not followed through, simply due to the downright disturbing vibes he often gave out, it was also true that he preferred to have her _know_ he was anything but.


End file.
